Suburban Disturbia Poem by Mark Walters

Phalanxes of Flamingos
Are spoiling for a fight,
Dancing their fandangos,
In a great display of might.

Gnomings all in clature,
Alarmed in the garden;
Against the laws of nature,
Are offering no pardon.

The times they are a changin,
The HOA has spoken.
Lawn ornaments a quakin,
Must all now be broken.

This willing war is mounted;
With a price on every head.
at last all coup is counted,
We must tally up the dead

Lifeless, busted sculpture
Last danced across the lawn
Their rapture now in rupture
Their hopes of life are gone

The gazing globe is focused,
Frozen in a lidless stare.
As though some hocus pocused,
He's alive and self aware.

When homeowners all agree,
Their good taste to defend.
With a sweeping blunt decree,
They're way off the deep end!